Culture

Members of Chwihyanggwan, or “The House of Hobbies,” discuss topics such as film, literature, or music, in the building’s retro-style lounge. [CHWIHYANGGWAN]

Left: Munto invites professional chefs to host cooking lessons, and the participants share the outcome of their collective endeavors with a dinner party. Right: Munraedang offers a space for collaborative work and discussions for professional creators. [MUNTO, MUNRAEDANG]

After a manic day at work or at school, many young Koreans rightfully want to spend the rest of their day in a more relaxed environment, even if it comes at a cost. For some, that rest comes in the form of sipping on good whiskey while talking about international politics or joining a doodling session hosted by professional artists.

While social clubs are not a new concept in Korea, few venues have operated with a set location, an inclusive membership system and an organized event schedule until now. Newly-established “social salons” provide visitors an experience that many in the era of social media and business-only interactions feel is missing from their lives. With retro interiors and well-stocked bars, these spaces are a throwback to the elegance and sophistication of 19th century French salons that were cultural hubs for upper-middle class Parisians to discuss politics, arts, and philosophy.

Chwihyanggwan is a social salon in Hapjeong, western Seoul, with an old-fashioned name that roughly translates into “The House of Hobbies.” Aiming to provide a space for people with different interests to freely and comfortably socialize, it has a lounge and a bar on the first floor, and a small meeting space for discussions and a media room for screenings on the second floor that are only available to paying members. The salon offers a monthly schedule booked with a variety of programs that are organized and hosted by the salon itself. Recent events include a coffee-making session taught by professional coffee roasters and a writing class taught by the editor of the salon’s magazine.

Much like a 19th-century French salon, these modern-day Korean spaces for conversations are intimate and casual. Members are offered nicknames to ensure their anonymity and a complete separation from their work-related egos symbolized by their real names. Most social salons do operate on a membership system, but do not select their members by their age, occupation, or respectability.

“It is not uncommon to have members spend hours talking to each other not knowing each others’ age,” says Ko Ji-hyun, the founder of Chwihyanggwan. (In Korea, it is important to know the age of the people one is speaking with.) At Chwihyanggwan, first-time visitors are simply asked at the front desk if they are a “talker” or a “thinker” to engage with the type of people and setting they prefer, while regular members can freely choose the salons that they would like to participate in. “Job titles that are important in society do not matter here,” says Ko.

Yet, many remain skeptical of the purpose of social salons despite their growing popularity. Many worry that social salons will be attracting people who have ulterior motives, such as those looking for potential dates or to expand their social connections for work-related purposes, rather than seriously engaging in meaningful conversations.

Social salons claim to provide a bygone and much-missed form of socialization. Interactions in social salons try to satiate people’s appreciation and desire for slow-paced, but enriching conversation in an age of high speed communication.

“There are things that are easier to divulge to strangers,” says Park Gi-nam, who participates in a magazine self-publishing session hosted by Munto, a social salon in Seodaemun District, western Seoul. “I like the atmosphere that allows me to talk about my inner thoughts freely.”

Furthermore, many salons aim to attract members by providing quality creative content and inviting talented speakers, instead of simply being a place for socialization.

For example, Munto hosts meetings that are led by speakers who organize the meetings’ theme and layout. These speakers are mainly professionals such as chefs, writers and film directors who provide field-relevant advice and industry prospective. For example, Munto’s recent cooking session was led by chef Jang Jin-woo, while the writing lesson was offered by Lee Woo-min, a copywriter at the online fashion mall 29cm.

Trevari, another social salon in Apgujeong-dong, southern Seoul, has a July schedule that is filled with well-known speakers including award-winning comic artist Yoon Tae-ho, whose 2014 web comic “Misaeng” was adapted into an acclaimed TV series, and Kang Won-guk, author and speechwriter for former presidents Kim Dae-jung and Roh Moo-hyun. The salon offers book clubs with more than a hundred book genres to choose from every four months, with each group having 16 regular meetings.

“Our salon began as a place for prospective professionals of various fields looking to be separated by formal affiliations of school and other workplaces,” says Kim I-so, the founder of Munraedang, a social club located in Mullae-dong, western Seoul. More of a collective workshop than a simple social salon, the venue is filled with bookshelves for research, large desks for discussions and individual workrooms for members. Unlike other social salons that attract a wide range of people with varying degrees of interest and expertise, members of Munraedang are largely professional humanities scholars, writers and artists, and they exchange their ideas through seminars and small meetings held in the salon.

Similarly, a social salon called Safehouse in Seongsu-dong, eastern Seoul, acts both as a library for sci-fi, horror, and fantasy afficionados and a studio space for independent creators. While the cafe and library are accessible to the public, members who wish to rent a studio space can do so by paying a monthly fee of 250,000 won ($223).

“I hope members will think of the space as their creative hideout, and even use it as a space for collaborative creative work,” says Kim Hong-ik, the founder of Safehouse.

Despite efforts by salons to disregard age, gender, or employment status when considering members, social salons still have very high thresholds. Most social salons provide a three-month membership that ranges from 150,000 to 450,000 won, depending on the number of speakers or meetings the members wants to access.

While social salons do not deny that they target people who have specific interests and financial resources, they do not think the money is spent on nothing. “Regardless of the members’ motives, all of them read a book once a month, write 400-word book reviews and talk about it for a few hours with people,” says Lee Yuk-heon, head of marketing and public relations at Trevari.

“[We] have 3200 members for this season alone, and half of them have also participated in the previous season as well. Our members think the values we embody are worth the price.”